All play and no work makes Jack a mere toy.

The Lord had a job for me, but I had so much to do, I said, "You get somebody else--or wait till I get through." I don't know how the Lord came out, but He seemed to get along: But I felt kinda sneakin' like, 'cause I know'd I done Him wrong. One day I needed the Lord--Needed Him myself--needed Him right away, And He never answered me at all, but I could hear Him say Down in my accusin' heart, "Nigger, I'se got too much to do, You get somebody else or wait till I get through."

People are taking it for granted that [the Negro] ought not to work with his head. And it is so easy for these people among whom we are living to believe this; it flatters and satisfies their self-complacency.

A crust of bread and a corner to sleep in. A minute to smile and an hour to weep in. A pint of joy to a peck of trouble, And never a laugh but the moans come double. And that is life. A crust and a corner that makes love precious, With a smile to warm and tears to refresh us, And joy seems sweeter when cares come after, And a moan is the finest of foils for laughter. And that is life.

روح روز تابستانی و
نفسِ گل سرخی،
تابستان اما سپری شده است و
موسم گل‌ به آخر رسیده است

کجا رفته‌اند؟
که می‌داند، که می‌داند.

خون قلب منی و
جان آرامشی.
قلب من امّا سرد است و
جانم به سیاهی در نشسته است.

کجایی تو ای یار؟
که می‌داند، که می‌داند.

امید سالیان منی و
آفتاب برف‌های زمستانم.
سال‌ها اما
زیر آسمانی ابر اندود به پایان رسیده است.

کجا یکدیگر را باز خواهیم یافت؟
که می‌داند، که می‌داند

[In Is Higher Education for the Negro Hopeless? Dunbar responds to an essay in which Charles Dudley Warner, a white writer, contended blacks were better suited for industrial training, not higher learning. Dismissing Warner as] one who speaks without authority, ... I believe I know my own people pretty thoroughly. I know them all classes, the high and the low, and have yet to see any young man or young woman who had the spirit of work in them before, driven from labor by a college education.